Rising With the Dishes

 

 

 

snow-blind (in summer!)

and dulled by desire

I, forged, forgotten, fogged

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Immaculate Concept

This song plays in my head as I stand on the fence across from the mall. Quickly, urgently, I smoke a cigarette. A single drop of rain falls on the corner of my mouth. This brings me into the sense-memory of kissing you. There is visceral truth in these tightly-spun lyrics.

 

I, unhinged, sorry

Hold care for you

Begin to love`

The utmost

And who else

Spire bound